The Work and the Glory (208 page)

As the front of the machine reached the first of the stalks, Benjamin grabbed the engaging lever and pulled it toward him. Instantly the machine began to clatter as the metal blades along the front edge of the machine began sliding back and forth. It was like three dozen shears working in perfect synchronization. The round feeder wheel also began to turn. It was similar to the paddle wheel on a steamboat, only it was about six feet wide and the paddles were narrow boards. Its purpose was not to drive anything but simply to pull the wheat stalks evenly into the cutter blades.

A gasp went up, then shouts and cries. Benjamin did not turn. He was concentrating intently. This first pass was the most important, and he had to make certain he kept it straight along the edge. But he couldn’t help but dart glances downward. It was amazing. The wheat was falling in neat, even layers onto the conveyor system and moving through the machine and out the back.

At the end of the return pass, Benjamin stopped the horses. Slowly he dismounted, keenly aware of the silence of the crowd. Mary Ann came over quickly and took his hand. Together they turned and surveyed what he had done. In a twelve-foot swath, the wheat lay in even layers, waiting for someone to come gather it up and tie it into sheaves for the threshers.

“It’s amazing,” Mary Ann said softly. “It really works.”

He nodded in dazed wonder. What he had done in just two passes—three or four minutes total—would take a single man half a day to cut. Then, without a word, he turned, took Mary Ann by the shoulders, and kissed her soundly.

A cheer went up from the crowd and there was wild applause. Benjamin leaned over and put his mouth to Mary Ann’s ear. “I’ve got to write, Joshua,” he said. “I want to tell him all about it.”

* * *

The sun was low in the sky and seemed twice as large as it did at its zenith by the time Derek and Rebecca and Peter came around the shoulder of the small hill on the Wednesday after the wedding. Derek pulled up the horse, and the small wagon rolled to a stop. The wagon was borrowed from Heber Kimball. The horse had been given by the Pratts, the Youngs, the Kimballs, and the Smiths as their wedding present to the young couple. Derek still could hardly believe he now owned his own horse.

Peter, standing up in the back of the wagon, was already pointing. “There it is,” he cried in excitement. “That’s our place right there.”

Derek nodded, watching Rebecca closely for any signs of disappointment. The sod hut that stood on the hillside about twenty or thirty yards away suddenly seemed terribly small. The sunlight was coming from the west and backlighting the closest wall. For the first time Derek noticed how uneven the slabs of prairie sod were.

But there was no disappointment in Rebecca’s eyes. Her face lit up as she leaned forward, peering. “Oh, Derek, what a lovely setting.”

He looked around, greatly relieved. “It is lovely, isn’t it?” The valley of Adam-ondi-Ahman spread out before them, and the line of trees along the Grand River was a darker green against the valley crops. He lifted an arm in a sweeping motion. “Our land goes nearly to the top of the ridge, and then out to about where that large clump of grass is.”

She slipped her arm through his. “
Our
land,” she murmured. “I like the sound of that.” Then with excitement she nudged him. “Hurry, I want to see inside.”

Derek helped his bride from the wagon, then walked quickly to the door, which was made of rough slabs of lumber and hung on leather hinges. He took a quick breath and pushed it open, the anxiety clearly clouding his features. They stepped into the gloomy interior. “It’s not much yet,” he started. “I planned to do a lot of work during the winter when we can’t work the fields. The floor still needs some more smoothing, and we’ll have to get something to divide off a place for Peter to sleep. I was planning to have it all ready for you by spring and—”

She clamped her hand over his mouth, looking around. “The only thing this place needs is a woman’s touch. If you had waited until spring to marry me and bring me here, I’m not sure I could have saved it.”

He removed her hand. “Really?” he said. “You think it’s all right?”

She went up on tiptoes and kissed him quickly. “Really. It’s wonderful, Derek. And thank you for not making me wait to move in.”

* * *

Joshua groaned and rolled over in bed, burying his head deeper in the pillow. Caroline shook him again. “Joshua, someone’s knocking.”

He came up on one elbow, realizing it was a knocking from downstairs that had awakened him. Someone was pounding heavily on their front door, and whoever it was, they weren’t going to go away.

He sat clear up, peering at the clock on the wall. It was eighteen minutes after seven. He groaned again. After they had returned from Far West, he had been home only three days before leaving for Springfield, Missouri, about a hundred and seventy-five miles south of Independence. There he had picked up four wagonloads of deer, elk, and cow hides for the new tannery. The round trip had taken a full seventeen days, and he had not arrived back at Independence until late the previous evening.

Caroline nudged him again. “Hurry, Joshua, or they’re going to wake Savannah.”

Nodding, still grumbling to himself, he swung his feet out of bed, grabbed his pants from the chair where he had tossed them a few hours previously, and pulled them on as he hopped his way across the room.

“I’m comin’!” he muttered as he stomped down the stairs, combing through his hair with his fingers. “I’m comin’.”

The man outside—and he could see it was a man through the thinness of the curtains—evidently heard his footsteps on the stairs, for now the pounding stopped. Still barefoot and shirtless, Joshua walked to the front door and yanked it open. He was not in much of a mood for visitors.

Outside, the sun was bright and about two hours high in the sky. Joshua had to squint a little to make out who it was. Then he recognized the familiar figure. “Cornwell?” he said.

Obadiah Cornwell, once Joshua’s yard foreman and now his full partner in the freight business, nodded. “Mornin’, Joshua.”

Joshua blew out his breath and stepped back, opening the door wider and motioning for Cornwell to come in. “Can’t a man even have one day off?”

Cornwell ignored that, took his hat off, and followed Joshua inside. He was dressed as though he were ready for church, but then, that was how Cornwell always dressed. When Joshua had brought him in as a full partner in the business, Cornwell’s dressing habits had changed dramatically. He didn’t want people remembering he had once wrangled horses, cleaned stables, and manhandled freight into the wagon beds. He wore a well-tailored jacket and trousers, white shirt, cravat at the collar, and hand-tooled boots.

He tossed his hat on the table and walked to the center of the room. “Sorry to bother you so early, Joshua. What time did you get in?”

“It was after one by the time we got the horses cared for and I got to bed.”

Cornwell’s face was somber as he reached inside his coat and withdrew a folded paper. He held it out for Joshua. “This came late yesterday. I thought you’d want to see it as soon as possible.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later when Caroline heard the front door close again, she came out of the bedroom, tying her robe around her, and went to the stairs. From the landing she could see Joshua sitting in a chair, staring at a sheet of paper.

“Joshua?”

He looked up.

She started down the stairs. “Was that Obadiah?”

“Yes.” He folded the paper and laid it in his lap.

“What did he want so early?” And then she saw his face more clearly. “What is it?” she asked in alarm. “What’s the matter?”

“You’d better come sit down,” he said softly.

Feeling a quick chill, she hurried across the parlor and sat in the chair beside him. “What is it, Joshua? What’s wrong?”

For several moments, he didn’t answer; then finally he picked up the paper and unfolded it slowly. “This came yesterday. From Jefferson City. It’s signed by Lilburn W. Boggs.”

“The governor? But what is it?”

He lifted it, and his eyes scanned the top few lines. His voice was low and filled with pain. “It’s from the adjutant general’s office and dated two days ago, August thirtieth. It’s addressed to General David R. Atchison, commander of the Third Division of the Missouri militia.”

She was completely baffled. “The militia?”

Joshua lifted the paper higher and started to read, slowly and with some emotion. “ ‘Sir—Indications of Indian disturbances on our immediate frontier, and the recent civil disturbances in the counties of Caldwell, Daviess, and Carroll, render it necessary, as a precautionary measure, that an effective force of the militia be held in readiness to meet either contingency.’ ”

Open fear registered in Caroline’s eyes now. “The Indians? Has there been more trouble?”

“Yes.”

One hand came up to her mouth. Like many other residents of western Missouri, Caroline had a deep paranoia about the Indian tribes living just to the west of them. In the earlier part of the decade, Congress had passed a law setting up what was called Indian Territory. It was just beyond the western borders of the United States. That was only ten or twelve miles away from Independence. The government moved tens of thousands of the native populations westward to make way for white settlers. It was an unnatural and forcible resettlement, and the Indians had not taken well to it. Intertribal clashes were frequent, and sometimes the anger exploded against the whites who oppressed them. In an incident just a week earlier, a trading post had been burned and the Indian agent killed before the soldiers had arrived to quell the uprising. Joshua had deliberately avoided telling Caroline about it.

“Is there any chance they’ll break out of the reservation?” she asked with a little shudder.

Joshua blew out his breath. “Caroline, this is not about the Indians. At least, not very much.”

“It’s not? But it said—”

He jerked up the paper again, waving it at her half angrily. “It said Indian disturbances
and
recent civil disturbances in Caldwell, Daviess, and Carroll counties.”

For a moment it still didn’t click; then in a flash, understanding dawned. The horror that leaped across her face now was worse than the first. “The Mormons?” she whispered.

He nodded slowly.

Now she was very intent. “Read it again, Joshua,” she demanded.

Wearily he lifted the paper and started again, this time reading more slowly. “ ‘Sir—Indications of Indian disturbances on our immediate frontier, and the recent civil disturbances in the counties of Caldwell, Daviess, and Carroll, render it necessary, as a precautionary measure, that an effective force of the militia be held in readiness to meet either contingency. The Commander-in-Chief therefore orders that you cause to be raised immediately, within the limits of your division, to be held in readiness, and subject to further orders, four hundred mounted men, armed and equipped as infantry or riflemen, and formed into companies according to law, under officers already in commission.’ ”

He stopped, not looking up at her.

“Officers already in . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to finish it.

Still not meeting her eyes, he continued. “ ‘The Commander-in-Chief suggests the propriety of your causing the above to be carried into effect, in a manner calculated to produce as little excitement as possible, and report your proceedings to him through the Adjutant General.’ It’s signed by order of Governor Boggs.”

For a long time after Joshua finished and put the paper back on the table, they both sat there. Finally, Caroline straightened. She had pushed her emotions back to the point where she could begin to think more clearly. “So,” she asked calmly, “is it just a bluff to frighten the Mormons, or do you think they’ll actually take the field against them?”

It was a question that had come to Joshua’s mind as well. He was sorely tempted to soften it for her, but he was fighting a cold fear of his own and knew he was going to need her to help him work through it. “Similar letters have been sent to Samuel D. Lucas and five other generals of the militia. That’s seven altogether. If they’ve been asked to raise what Atchison has, that’s nearly three thousand men.”

She shuddered at that, but then, still composed, asked again. “But will they take the field against the Mormons?”

He stood up and began to pace slowly, his eyes concentrated in thought. “As you know, Governor Boggs is a resident of Jackson County. What you may not know is, when the troubles here erupted in ’33, Boggs was right in the middle of it. He was lieutenant governor then, and had to keep a low profile about it, but he was here, whipping us up and goading us on.”

“I had heard that,” Caroline said. Then with a trace of asperity she added, “I also heard that he benefitted quite handsomely by taking over some of the abandoned properties.”

Joshua shrugged. It was true, but Boggs wasn’t the only one. There were others. Joshua himself had been offered a choice parcel because of his role in the matter, but he had turned it down. In his mind he had a picture of Jessica and Rachel being driven across a sleet-covered prairie, and somehow profiting from that had seemed obscene.